


Monster

by ashleyerwinner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Season/Series 10, sad!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 06:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3280481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleyerwinner/pseuds/ashleyerwinner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I see your soul, and I feel it calling to me,” Cas says, as his eyes close. “Like a hand reaching inside of me. It feels… the same now as it did before you got the mark. It hasn’t marred who you are, Dean, only what you do.” He opens his eyes, and continues. “You’re no monster, Dean.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in such a long time ohmygod. Anyway, enjoy!

Dean sits alone at the table, hunched over his laptop. He looks as if he's working on a case, but he's trying to ignore the never-ending throb of pain burning through the mark into his body. There are times he feels as if he’s on fire, ready to combust at any given moment. He tries to fool his brother and Cas into thinking he's fine, faking normalcy. There’s a possibility there are moments when they don’t see the killer he’s become, but the person he was. He doesn’t blame them for seeing him as a monster. He is one.

His fingers massage his temples, his nonstop headache clustering into tension in his eyes. He’s trying so hard to be normal. He’s eating the right food, cutting off the alcohol, trying to sleep, but nothing makes him feel as he should, as he did before. Now, all he can do is try to wish away the bloodlust bubbling up inside of him. It won’t let up. Was it only a few years ago that he was called the “righteous man”? Not so long ago, he was a major component in stopping the apocalypse. Not so long ago, an angel saved  _him_  from hell. And now… that angel has looked upon him with fear, crippling fear. And his brother – god, his own flesh and blood, tip-toes around him like he’s walking on eggshells. He hates himself most for becoming the kind of person whose family fears him.

At this point, there’s no saving him. The “righteous man” has fallen, replaced by the same animal Cas pulled out of hell. Cas should have let him rot, decay, and be ripped apart for eternity. Topside, all he can do is fuck up and strike terror into the hearts of the people he loves the most. All he does now is cause them pain. 

Footsteps sound behind him, and he leans back in his seat to turn and who’s coming to interrupt his discontent. As if summoned, Cas walks in, face placid and tired. It’s times like these where Dean’s reminded that Cas is dying. The mark burns trifold as Cas sends a half-hearted smile Dean’s way. He hopes the pain isn’t evident on his face as he breathes through the pain.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas says, a smile wrinkling the corners of his mouth. Dean nods, and attempts to smile back. He can only hope it doesn’t come off as a grimace.

“What’s up, Cas?” He replies, returning his attention back to his “important stuff” on his laptop. In truth, he can hardly look at either Cas or his brother these days. Their heartbroken looks cut him deep in his core, and remind him just how much he’s hurt and disappointed them. Cas’ hand grips the back of his chair, a human thing Cas must have picked up from either he or Sam, and he sighs.

“Dean.” Is all he says, sad and resigned. There’s an itch Dean can’t describe; either the mark’s way of expressing its discomfort or his own body reacting to his friend’s disappointment. He’s not sure either way. With hesitation, he turns around his his seat to face Cas. His eyes meet Cas’ gaze and Dean finds himself looking into the same heartbroken eyes he had attempted to avoid. Guilt washes through his body, and the sinking pit in his stomach grows. As much as he’d like to look away, he maintains eye contact, hoping he isn’t reflecting the same kind of heartbreak evident in Cas’ eyes.

“Is it bothering you, the mark?” Cas asks, averting his eyes to Dean’s arm. Dean lets out a laugh that sounds closer to a sob. If only Cas knew how much it  _bothered_  him –

He flinches as he feels Cas’ warm, reassuring thumb press on the raised flesh of the mark. He wants to recoil from his touch, to turn and curl into himself until he doesn’t exist anyore. But he holds still as Cas smooths his thumb over the mark. The rest of Cas’ fingers rest on the underside of Dean’s arm, burning hot as opposed to the effect of the mark, which leaves Dean’s blood burning cold.

“Cas what are –“ Dean stops short, and focuses on his breathing. Cas’ touch makes something break up the guilt clotting inside of him; makes the constant burn dull and fade.

“I never found an appropriate way of apologizing to you… for everything.” Cas says. Dean listens as his eyes follow Cas’ gentle thumb move across his skin. “I’ve betrayed and hurt you in ways you’d never dream of doing of your own volition, but you’ve forgiven me. You’re a good man, Dean. Even under forces as strong as…” He trails off, and his thumb stops moving. Cas’ words catch up to him, and his breath catches in his throat.

“Of course I forgave you, man… You’re family.” Dean says, hard. Cas kneels next to him, eyes pleading.

“Why not apply that to your own situation, Dean? You’re family and we love you.” Cas’ eyes search his for something, but Dean looks away before he can find it.

“It’s not that simple, Cas. It’s different.” The pain of the mark has multiplied tenfold since Cas’ hand pulled away from his arm. His thoughts are clouded by his own self-hatred, and his blood throbs in his ears. Cas’ voice cuts through the chaos.

“It’s no different, Dean.” Cas sighs, and cups Dean’s face in his hand. Dean closes his eyes and fights every instinct to lean into Cas’ touch. “Nothing could ever make me forget what kind of man you are.” Dean’s eyes open to find Cas’ fierce ones staring back. There’s no heartbreak in those baby blues now. “You’re a  _good man_ , Dean Winchester, and you deserve to be saved. And you will be saved.” All the static in Dean’s head fades as he locks his gaze with Cas’.

“What if I can’t be?” Dean manages to get out.

“I see your soul, and I feel it calling to me,” Cas says, as his eyes close. “Like a hand reaching inside of me. It feels… the same now as it did before you got the mark. It hasn’t marred who you are, Dean, only what you do.” He opens his eyes, and continues. “You’re no monster, Dean.”

“You feel –“ Dean breathes, fighting back tears. “How?” Cas’ gaze drops and reaches back to his eyes a second later. He's slow as he moves, giving Dean every opportunity to object.  Dean keeps his eyes open, watching Cas’ face close in on his, only closing them when he feels the hot, harsh breathing of Cas on his lips. Cas lips are tentative, at first, but when Dean doesn’t pull away, he grows bolder. He breathes into the kiss, and presses solid lips against Dean’s. Dean’s hand reaches up and grabs onto Cas’ coat with desperation and finally reacts. He pushes back into the kiss, feeling relief when Cas moves to deepen it. He revels in the clearness of his mind and the absence of pain pulsing through his body. Cas’ thumb smooths over his cheekbone as he pulls away, a small smile playing on his lips. Dean grins through his tears, before pulling Cas back in for more. Their situation is complicated, but right now, they have this, whatever it is. And from where Dean’s standing, maybe things are looking up after all.


End file.
